Safe to Shore
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: Major Force Awakens spoilers! Falling can be endless, especially when you're wounded both body and soul. But, perhaps, falling doesn't have to be the end.


**Star Wars: The Force Awakens**

 **Safe to Shore**

 **By Lucky_Ladybug**

 **Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! I'm probably not the only one to do this, but I rather hope that I'm the only one to try this particular angle. Han had to be saved. And me being me, well, it had to be this way. I'm following movie canon only; any books now labeled** _ **Legends**_ **are not taken into account. Title is from the song** _ **Little Talks**_ **, which fits the situation the movie gave us a little too well since it seems to be about one half of a couple having died and the other grieving.**

An eternity could be experienced in a few seconds.

From the moment Ben ran him through with his cruelly glowing lightsaber, Han Solo's eternity began. For an eon he stared into the face of his son, a man who had become a stranger. For an age he reached up with one trembling hand, touching that face, trying to comprehend what had just happened. And when the lightsaber was extracted and he plunged off the bridge and into the reactor, time slowed to almost a stop.

Even as a child, Ben had been angry and prone to getting in fights. Leia had worried about him, feeling that it just wasn't natural for a child being raised in a good, strong home to carry such anger in his heart. Han had brushed off Leia's concerns, feeling that it was a phase Ben would grow out of. But Ben had only grown worse the older he got. He didn't think the current solutions for the galaxy were really working. He felt it was up to him to change the galaxy for the better. And to Leia's and even Han's horror, his lifelong idolization of his grandfather Anakin Skywalker exploded into a desire to take Anakin's path and become as strong as Darth Vader.

Han and Leia had mutually agreed to see if Luke could help turn Ben back to the Light Side. For a time it had seemed to be working, but Ben had only lied, as he had lied and tricked Han on the bridge. He had destroyed all of Luke's work with the new Jedi and left to continue his path to the Dark Side. Now, in his estimation, he had done what he needed to in order to complete his journey. He had proved that he was capable of murdering someone he had loved.

 _Leia. . . ._

She was back at the base with the Resistance, waiting. If the Starkiller was destroyed, she and all the rest of them would be spared. Would she know what had happened? Would she know Han had failed, that he wasn't coming back this time? Would she know that Ben had killed him?

He hadn't seen her for so long, but when they had met it was as though nothing had really changed. It had felt so good to hold her in his arms again. Now it was all over. Yes, she would know. And she would also know that their son was doomed.

Han closed his eyes as he fell. Would death be instantaneous when he hit the core? Would he feel it? He had cheated death so many times through the years, had gotten himself out of every type of impossible situation imaginable. Well, sometimes others had helped him. He had thought he was dying back in the carbon-freezing chamber at Cloud City. Even then he had come out of it alive. But there was no escaping this. He was going to find out what it was like to be burned to a crisp.

Could it be any more painful than the blow he had already taken to his heart?

Once he had believed that he would never settle down, that he and Chewie would roam the stars for a lifetime. But then he had met Leia and Luke and all that had changed.

Where was Luke now? Would they find him?

Could anyone get through to Ben now? Was the galaxy doomed?

He had scoffed at the idea he could get through to Ben. Apparently he had been right.

Ben had felt he had to kill a family member to fully cross over to the Dark Side. If it hadn't been Han, would it have been Leia?

Han couldn't really feel grateful that it had been him instead of Leia. How would Leia suffer now, being the one left behind, the one who had to go on and figure out what to do? It would be worse for her than him.

Leia had already been the one left behind, really. After Ben's descent to the Dark Side, first Luke had left and then Han and Chewie had as well. Han had tried to stay, not wanting to leave Leia to bear the burden all by herself. But it had been such a horrible shock about Ben and neither of them had known how to handle it. Han had felt the almost tangible wall go up between them and that had been one blow too many after what had just happened with Ben. Leia had always applied that wall when she was trying so hard to be strong, to not break. Han had never given up on getting through it before. But there had never been such a devastating tragedy equally affecting both of them before. He had not known what to do with his own grief and sorrow or how to get through Leia's wall when they were both reeling from Ben's betrayal. So he had finally left too, hoping that being out in the stars and smuggling again would give him some perspective on what to do. It hadn't. But once started, he hadn't known how to stop, either. So he hadn't gone home.

So many thoughts in so short a period of time. The core must be getting close now. And the pain from the wound was really starting to become noticeable. He never remembered passing out from an injury before. Then again, he had never been run through by a lightsaber before. And the fall happening immediately afterward couldn't be helping. He blinked back the lightheadedness. As horrible as it would be to die in this manner, he wanted to do it while awake and aware. He didn't want to quietly slip out of being while unconscious.

To Han, everything since Ben's attack had been an eternity. In reality, only seconds had passed. Suddenly the entire area above sharply lit up with red and orange fire and the building shook. The agonized and furious cry of Chewbacca rang through the reactor. He wasn't waiting any longer; losing his friend had destroyed his patience.

 _Chewie. . . ._

Han wanted to call out to him, to tell him he was still alive, but what good would it do? They were all too far away. Nothing could save him now. In another eternal second or two it would all be over.

If only he could reach for one of the retractable platforms. He hadn't been close enough before, but the explosion had jarred him closer to the side of the reactor. Luke had managed to grab onto things when he was falling down tunnels like this. Even though Han wasn't a Force user, he should be able to grab something if he was in range.

He strained with his good arm. It was coming closer, closer . . . but he still wasn't near enough to reach it. He could only brush it with the tips of his fingers. And even though he wasn't moving the wounded arm, the strain was still affecting it. Pain rushed through him again, threatening to force him into unconsciousness. It was all he could do to fight back.

That was it, then; there was nothing he could do. He would have to accept the inevitable.

When a cable shot out of seemingly nowhere and wrapped around his waist, jerking him sharply towards the platform, the agony and pain that washed over him from his jarred and wounded shoulder was almost unbearable. The urge to pass out was stronger than ever, but once again something stopped him. As he was pulled over and onto the platform, allowing him a glimpse of his rescuer, he couldn't believe it.

"You," he rasped in disbelief.

xxxx

He wasn't there on official business, really. The First Order hadn't hired him and as far as he knew, had no interest in him. Since for the moment he had no other place he needed to be, and since he had been fairly close by to begin with, he had come largely out of curiosity. Word traveled fast in the circles he stuck close to, and he knew about the Millennium Falcon resurfacing and Han Solo returning to it. He also knew about Kylo Ren's true identity as Han Solo and Leia Organa's son. And when he had tracked the Millennium Falcon to the First Order's base and saw Solo going inside, he had decided to see exactly what would happen. Would Solo be formidable after all these years? Would he be able to get through to his son? Did he know how far his son had fallen on his current path?

Not even the curious observer had known that. He had approved of Darth Vader's strong family ties; family was something he still treasured, even though he no longer had any of his own. He was repulsed and even angry at Kylo Ren's decisive action against his father. Among the things he absolutely could not tolerate were children that would turn against their parents. Such disrespect and ingratitude was absolutely inconceivable to him.

Perhaps that was at least partially what prompted him to take the unusual action of attempting to rescue Solo. That, and it seemed such an unnecessary and thankless end for someone who had been so important to the galaxy. Not that he particularly cared about _that,_ per se, but he had to afford some respect to someone who had made the switch from being a ne'er-do-well smuggler to a valuable bringer of galactic peace, even if he thought it was utter foolishness since the peace would not last. Throwing in the addition of their rocky past only compounded his feelings.

And thus, here they were: the rescuer standing proud and holding onto the cable still wound around Han's waist, and the rescued sprawled on the platform, staring up in continuing disbelief as he breathed heavily and gripped at the cable, nearly unconscious from the pain of the wound his son had dealt to him. They remained that way for another several-second eternity before the rescuer bent down and started to unwind the cable.

"We're going to have to get out of here fast," he said flatly. "The base is starting to collapse now. If your friends succeed in dismantling the Starkiller, this entire planet is going to blow up."

"I'm down with that," Han replied, gritting his teeth in pain from the wound. Even though his body seemed to want nothing more than to check out of this situation, he would fight with all his might to remain conscious. He would not show weakness now, not around his strange rescuer and not when he needed to be awake to escape.

"Can you walk?" The rest of the cable came free and the other man swiftly retracted it into his gauntlet before rocking back to give Han room.

Han pressed the hand on his uninjured arm into the floor, shakily pushing himself farther upright. As he slowly struggled to get up, he put the hand behind him as a support against the wall. "Why are you doing this?" he asked warily. "Is there some new bounty out on me that you're trying to cash in on?"

There was no immediate response, only that stare from the T-shaped visor of that cold, emotionless helmet. The stare persisted as the bounty hunter watched Han slowly pull himself to his feet, still slightly trembling. He would go into shock from the wound soon. It would be better for that to happen back on the _Slave I_ and not here in the middle of a reactor that might very soon go up in flames with the rest of the planet.

"Well?" Han demanded. "I'm waiting to hear the bad news." He pushed himself away from the wall, trembling but trying to hide it.

"No, there isn't a bounty." The bounty hunter grasped Han's shoulder, not trusting that the wounded man could stay standing on his own power for the length of the distance they would have to cover to get back to the ship. "Let's go."

He could feel Han tensing under his grip. But, knowing he didn't really have any other options at the moment, Han at last nodded. "Fine." The wheels were already turning in his head. He had been given a chance to live, even if only for a few more minutes. If his rescuer suddenly turned on him, as he was certain would happen, he would fight to save himself despite the injury. He knew he was operating on borrowed consciousness and his body would soon demand payment with interest, but oh well, when hadn't he lived on the edge?

xxxx

There weren't any guards around as they went into the corridor that opened up in the reactor. By now the First Order knew there was trouble and they were running in all directions as the alarms sounded overhead.

Han blinked back the insistent fuzzy spots as they moved. There was rarely ever blood with lightsaber wounds; the heat from the weapons instantly cauterized. But the damage was still there and the pain was still there and the more he taxed his body, the more it wanted to shut down on him. Still, he insisted on forcing it forward. He wanted to get out of here when he had another chance at life, even though it felt like part of him had died back there on the bridge as soon as Ben had run him through.

He also didn't want to show weakness here, now, not around Boba Fett.

The bounty hunter had pointedly ignored Han's queries as to why he was doing this. Han couldn't figure it out, but had also decided that this was not a good time or place to dwell on it. He would stay alert for as long as he physically could, and once they were out of here maybe he would ask again.

He was moving almost on auto-pilot, really. By the time they were arriving at the door leading outside, he wasn't in much of a state to be able to really think about anything. He only vaguely processed that the door didn't seem to be yielding. "What's the hold-up?" he mumbled.

Boba Fett responded by shooting the door with his blaster; it had been jammed. The blast finally forced it open and he pulled Han through, out into the snow-covered world.

The light of day was almost gone. Above them, X-wing fighters continued to pound the Starkiller with desperate ammunition while First Order crafts pursued and shot them down. Boba Fett cast a cursory glance in their direction, as though he found the whole situation preposterous, and then kept going, pulling Han towards the _Slave I_ docked in the shadows at the back of the base.

It was eerie going up the ramp. Han was still coherent enough to briefly think about the only other time he had been aboard this ship, when he hadn't even been aware of it. How many days and weeks had he spent being transported back to Jabba on Tatooine? How many days and weeks had he spent hanging in Jabba's palace as a twisted living decoration while this character had stood by and observed?

For a time he had thought Boba Fett had perished inside Jabba's Sarlaac monster. But it hadn't been long and stories had flown about him blasting his way out of the thing. Han had taken them with a grain of salt at first, yet at the same time he had felt that if anyone was capable of breaking free, it was Boba Fett. Eventually he had learned the stories were true; Boba Fett was still very much among the living. They had encountered each other once or twice since then, but only in passing. Boba Fett had no quarrel with Han, even though Han had accidentally knocked him into the Sarlaac pit, and Han had been content to just let the bounty hunter go.

He collapsed on a bench almost as soon as he got inside the ship. Fett closed the hatch, speaking to him without missing a beat. "You'll have to be strapped down until we're off the planet's surface."

"I know, I know," Han retorted, sinking down on his uninjured side.

He hadn't expected things to become even more of a blur. After he had been strapped down and Boba Fett went into the cockpit, he belatedly realized that the ship's shape meant that while docked, everything was lying back. As soon as they became airborne and the ship changed position, he and this bench would be completely upright.

"Great," he muttered, hoping he wouldn't have to stay suspended like that for long.

The take-off came swift enough and easy enough, but the movement didn't do anything positive for Han's current condition. He sank back against the bench, held up only by the safety straps, and tried to glance blearily out the window. A red and orange cacophony greeted him. The Starkiller had been destroyed. The planet was going to go up in smoke. Hopefully Chewie and Rey and Finn would get out in time. . . . And Ben. . . .

Han shut his eyes. Ben was still his son and he loved him, even though his hope for Ben's redemption was decimated. He didn't want to think of Ben dying as the planet died, even though that would probably really be fitting, considering that the First Order and their Starkiller had allowed several planets filled with people to die.

Not just any people, either. Now the New Republic was no more. Leia hadn't liked them for a number of reasons, but of course she had never wanted them to be wiped out of existence. And even they had been better than the First Order. The Resistance sure had their work cut out for them, whether or not Han would be a part of their fight in the future. And the answer to that question was still up in the air.

Fett was a good pilot, Han had to admit that. He got them off the planet's surface just in time and sent them flying into hyperspace. But the jump took the rest of Han's fading consciousness. He had lasted as long as he could with that type of wound and his body had taken further abuses that lesser men couldn't have stayed aware through. Now it insisted on rest, whether Han would willingly give it or not.

xxxx

Han floated in and out of consciousness for an indeterminable amount of time. Once he heard a whirring noise and felt the bench he was strapped to reverting to a normal horizontal position. Another time he felt the sting of bacta and belatedly realized that Boba Fett was tending to the entrance and exit wounds from Ben's lightsaber. He struggled to open his eyes, only managing to see Fett through a blur. "Why?" he managed to mumble, but swiftly passed out again.

Fett was many things, but a liar wasn't one of them. Han had to believe that there really wasn't a bounty out on him. That still didn't really answer the question, however, of what was going on. He couldn't believe that the bounty hunter was helping him for altruistic reasons. Still, there was very little he could do about any of it right now, and he rather doubted they would get anywhere in their conversation even when he was well enough again that he could process it. Another thing Fett wasn't was a conversationalist. He only said the barest minimum and only what he felt needed to be said, regardless of whether anyone else agreed and wanted him to say more.

During the rare and brief times that Han was actually aware enough to think, he tried instead to focus on Leia. If he could just reach out to her so that she could find him in the Force, she would know that he was still alive. Leia was Force-sensitive enough that she had no doubt felt something when Ben had tried to murder him in cold blood. More than likely, she thought him dead. He still couldn't be sure he really would pull through this. Apparently the lightsaber wound had been worse than he had initially believed.

It was funny, really, to think of him trying to figure out how to make himself available to be felt in the Force. He, who had always scoffed at the very idea of a higher power and had believed only in himself and his ship and Chewie. But over the years he had come to recognize and know that it was all real, just as he had told the kid Rey.

That seemed an eternity ago now. What was she doing? What was _Chewie_ doing? He had gone berserk on the base as soon as Han had fallen. Making a Wookie angry was one of the stupidest things anyone could ever do, and Han had never heard Chewie that angry. He had to hope the big lug had made it out of the base alive and that he hadn't ended up getting himself killed. If he was okay, he was probably mourning, just like Leia.

 _Leia . . . I'm alive. I think._

He couldn't be sure his message would get through. He wasn't Force-sensitive in the least; he wouldn't hear Leia even if she ended up hearing him.

For more reasons than one. He was going under again.

xxxx

One of the heavy burdens on senators, generals, and princesses alike was that there was rarely, if ever, time to deal with their own issues. That was always secondary, at the bottom of the list after helping everyone else handle their problems. By the time that was done, there wasn't time for much else besides the necessities of eating and collapsing into bed.

Leia's dreams had been unpleasant for some time. On any night that she didn't wake up in a cold sweat from a dream that had morphed into a nightmare, she counted herself lucky. Nights filled with mixed-up and pointlessly inane dreams were welcome compared to that.

There were so many nightmares in the sleeping world that crossed into the waking world. Some were already real; others were very real possibilities. She had dreamed countless times of Ben and his increasingly destructive behavior, of Luke in his self-imposed exile, of Han and Chewbacca in their return to smuggling. Those dreams rarely ever ended well. The few times they did, it was difficult to return to the waking world and find that they were not real.

It had been so hard for Rey to tell Leia what had happened when she and Chewbacca returned to the Resistance base with a wounded Finn and no Han. Of course, Leia had already known; she had felt it in the Force the moment Ben had cut his own father down. But she had listened to Rey tell the details. It had been horrible for her and Finn and Chewbacca to stand there and helplessly watch, too far away to be able to do anything about it. Even though Rey had only known Han for a short time, she had come to care about him. She was starved for a family, for a place to feel she belonged. Leia had tried to comfort her, even as her heart was shattering in pieces.

Right now Leia had managed to find a quiet moment to be alone and mourn. Everyone at the base wanted her to take that time, even encouraging or pushing her to do it. And although ordinarily she would have resisted, this blow had pierced her enough that she did not have the strength to refuse.

She had gotten used to Han not being around; he had dealt with their son's fall to the darkness by leaving and going back to the only world that had ever really made sense to him: that of smuggling and dealing with the fringes of the underworld. She had feared for him many times, knowing that the scrapes he was legendary for would continue. But when she had reached out, she had always felt him in the Force and known he was still alive in spite of it all. Now, to think that their own son had fallen so far that he and not angry underworld characters had been responsible for Han's death! It was too much to bear. Ben had figuratively pierced Leia with his lightsaber just as he physically had Han.

Perhaps the very worst of it was that she had convinced Han to talk to Ben, to reason with him, to bring him home. Han had scoffed, not believing that he could really make the deciding difference to turn Ben back to the light, and Leia had encouraged him until she had felt his silent consent. Maybe Han would have tried to talk to Ben anyway, no matter what she had said, but knowing that he might be alive had she not said anything drove the blade in deeper.

Then C-3PO was calling to her and she snapped back to the present, pushing back her sorrow. There were still other problems that needed her attention. She would deal with those again. Maybe it would actually feel good to have something else to put her mind to. When she was alone with her grief, she wasn't even sure what to do with it.

xxxx

When consciousness returned completely for the first time since the escape, Han found himself lying on a cot. He was still on a ship, presumably the _Slave I_ ; he could feel the movement of the craft.

Slowly he pulled himself into a sitting position, gritting his teeth against the shooting pain in his right shoulder. The bacta was mending the damage, but it wasn't an instant cure, especially for a wound like that. There was still a ways to go. But he had to be grateful for the stuff; without it, there would be much less chance of him ever being able to use that arm again, and he was determined that he would be able to.

He looked around the room. He was alone, of course; Boba Fett was not the type to keep a bedside vigil. Then again, Han also hadn't thought he would be the type to rescue him from a fatal fall. There was definitely _something_ in it for him, although if not a bounty, what?

Keeping his weight on his left side, Han pulled himself up from the bed. Dizziness immediately took over when he stood and he swayed, forced to grab onto the wall for support. He held still for a moment, gathering his bearings and his strength, before trying again to push away. This time, as long as he moved very carefully, he didn't feel ready to do a faceplant into the cold metal floor. He kept walking, heading for where he assumed the cockpit was.

He was right. Soon he came across Boba Fett, working the controls and staring out into the vastness of space. There was a planet or two in the distance, but Han didn't have his bearings enough to know what they were or what part of space they were in. They could be on the other end of the galaxy, for all he knew.

"Where are we?" he asked.

If Fett was surprised that Han was awake and standing behind him, he gave no indication of it. "Far away from your enemy," he said flatly.

Han rested his good arm on the doorframe, trying to make it look casual and not that he needed to prop himself up on something. "And from Leia too?" he said without missing a beat.

"Not as far from her."

"Okay." Han gripped the doorframe with his good hand. "Then I'd like to know exactly what you're planning to do with me and why you made the effort to get hold of me in the first place. Are you working for the First Order?"

"No."

 _Well, that was informative._ "So then how did you even have access to their base?"

"They didn't know I was there. I tracked you."

"Well, that's just great," Han grumbled. "Look, this conversation is going just about as fast as pulling teeth. And about as much fun. How about some real answers?"

"You're alive. Why do you need to know any more?"

"Because I'd kind of like to know that not only can I stay alive, I won't be handed over to Jabba the Hutt's grandson or anything like that."

"You won't be." A pause. "I can let you off back at the Resistance base, if that's what you want."

"If that's what . . ." Han shook his head. That was a mistake; the dizziness came back. He stumbled, crashing into the doorframe. "Of course that's what I want!"

"It might be more beneficial to your wife as well as yourself to remain among the dead for a while."

"What?" Han stared at his rescuer. "What are you talking about? How would that help anyone, especially Leia _or_ me?!"

"Your son believed that to complete his training, he had to be able to kill someone he loved. Right now he thinks he's accomplished that. He will leave your wife alone. Should he learn that he failed to slay you, he might return to try again."

Still clutching the doorframe, Han's knuckles went sheet-white. "And he might get Leia instead of me." He wanted to say Ben wouldn't go after his mother, but he'd had no idea that Ben would try to cut him down. Had it been Leia who had met him on the bridge, Ben would have likely tried to murder her as well.

This time Fett was silent. He knew Han was working it out in his mind.

"No," Han said at last. "Even if he found out I wasn't dead, he also found out that he's capable of killing his loved ones. Why should he try again? He discovered what he wanted to know about himself."

"That's also possible," Fett conceded with a nod.

"So don't think I'm not grateful, because I am. But I'm going back. I'm not going to leave Leia and Chewie thinking I'm dead!"

"Very well." Fett still didn't sound surprised. He adjusted the controls and leaned back. "It shouldn't be long now."

"Okay. Good." Han started to move away from the doorframe, then paused. "You didn't have any qualms about working for the Empire. Would you really turn down a job from the First Order, if they ever come calling?"

"That would depend on what they want done and why."

Han considered that and nodded. "That makes sense, I guess." Unlike most bounty hunters, Boba Fett didn't accept every job offer that came along. He had to actually agree with each one. It was part of what made him so highly sought-after. Not only did he not believe in breaking a deal, he wouldn't make one in the first place if it wasn't one he was alright with.

Fett waited. He knew Han was still working up to the question he really wanted to ask.

"What about Ben?"

"What about him?"

"Would you accept a job from him?"

Fett could hear the frustration in Han's voice. "It would still depend on what he wanted and why." He paused. "But there are certain people I would rather not have anything to do with. Kylo Ren is one of them."

"Well, if you don't mind my asking, why?" Han demanded.

"He committed one of the most unforgivable acts. He betrayed his father."

Han rocked back. Now _he_ was surprised. "And that's really a big deal to you?"

"One's parents, if they are worthy to be parents, give their children everything they need to grow up well. If the children turn against them, they are betraying the first and sometimes the only people who love them."

"I can't argue with that," Han admitted.

"Your son has become scum. Even Darth Vader was loyal to his family."

Han's eyes darkened. Was there any possible way of reaching Ben now? He had to admit it looked hopeless. Obviously Ben had to be stopped, no matter what, but if it came down to it, could Han do what Ben had tried to? Could he kill his own son, even if it was in the name of galactic peace?

He didn't want to think about that right now.

They were coming up on a planet now; he recognized it as the Resistance base. The _Slave I_ began to descend into its atmosphere.

"You know, you're probably going to have to identify yourself and say what you're doing," Han said nervously. "The Resistance is suspicious of mysterious ships they can't place. I'm sure you understand."

"I'll identify the ship, if it becomes necessary," Fett answered, unconcerned.

It definitely did. As they came down in full view of the base below, the communicator crackled to life. "Approaching starship, identify yourself," the air tower controller ordered.

"This is the _Slave I_ ," Fett replied.

"Oh, that's going to go over just great," Han muttered. "That's a ship they _can_ identify."

For a moment there was silence. " _Slave I_?" The controller sounded both doubtful and suspicious. "What is your business here?"

"Maybe you should let me talk," Han said. "They're never going to believe whatever you tell them."

Seemingly ignoring him, Fett said, "I'm returning what was lost to you at Starkiller base."

A confused pause. "Would you repeat that, _Slave I_?"

Feeling extremely awkward, but determining he needed to speak up, Han came closer to the radio. "Uh, he means me," he said. "Han Solo."

Another pause. "Captain Solo?!" Although trained to be calm and unemotional, the controller could not refrain from his true feelings. "You're alive?!"

"Yeah," Han said. "What, you think you're talking to a ghost?"

The controller finally composed himself. "This could be a trick," he said. "Don't land, don't do anything, _Slave I._ I'm going to send for General Organa."

"Oh boy," Han said under his breath. It was good that they were efficient, but this was seriously awkward. He had hoped to reunite with Leia on the ground, not over a radio receiver.

Boba Fett wasn't bothered about that, of course. "Don't be long," he said tersely.

Han stared at the cannons trained on the ship. "Yeah," he said. "Make it quick."

If nothing else, the controller was certainly efficient. It wasn't five minutes later when Leia's frantic and disbelieving voice came over the communicator. "Han?! Is that really you?!"

"Who else do you know who would make such a crazy entrance?" Han answered.

For a moment there was silence. Leia wanted to believe it, and perhaps she _did_ believe it, but she didn't want to be taken in by a trickster. Or maybe she was trying to compose herself so as not to start yelling with the guard and Boba Fett listening in.

"You're cleared to land, _Slave I_ ," she said at last. Only someone who really knew her well could pick up on the strain in her voice.

Han had to smile a bit. Always the consummate professional when others were around. He climbed into the co-pilot's seat and strapped himself in for the descent.

Boba Fett wasted no time in bringing the _Slave I_ down on the loading dock. "Don't allow yourself to be taken in by your son again," he warned. "He's beyond whatever foolish hopes of redemption you had for him."

"Leia and I'll make that decision," Han retorted, even though he really feared the bounty hunter was right. Carefully he undid the safety restraints and pushed himself up, moving slowly towards the exit. There he paused, feeling awkward all over again. "Look . . . thanks," he finished lamely, not sure what else to say.

"Just don't make my time wasted," Fett grunted.

"I'll do my best," Han said wryly.

The ramp lowered and he slowly walked down, hoping he didn't look as wounded as he was. Leia was running across the dock towards him, all attempts at appearing calm flung to the wind. "Han!" She caught up to him as he stepped off the ramp and then stood for a long moment, gazing at the man she had known she had lost. "It _is_ you," she choked out, still in disbelieving awe. "How?"

Han looked and felt awkward again as he replied. "I'm not really sure myself," he admitted. "For some reason, our old 'friend' was around and decided to lend a hand."

Leia looked towards the _Slave I_ as the hatch began to close. "He's not coming down?"

"You know Boba Fett," Han said with a shrug of his good shoulder. "I don't think so."

Suddenly overcome by emotions, Leia pulled him into an embrace. "Oh Han. . . . I thought I'd lost you for good this time," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I felt your pain when Ben stabbed you."

Han drew her close with his good arm. "I thought I'd had it too," he admitted. "But I'm okay."

They held each other for a long moment in silence, savoring their reunion. Finally, realizing something was missing, Han pulled back slightly and looked around at the people who had gathered but were staying back to let them have their time in peace. "Hey, where's Chewie?"

Leia smiled. "He, Rey, and R2-D2 aren't here. They went to find Luke."

Han stared at her. "They know where he is?!"

"Yes." Leia smiled more, the joy in her heart reaching her mouth and her eyes. "They're going to bring him home. And when they come back, we'll all be together again." She took Han's arm, leading him away from the landing dock. "You'd better be planning to stick around this time."

Han smiled too. "I think I can manage that."

As they moved farther away, the _Slave I_ started up and began to lift off the platform. Han turned to watch it rise.

Leia stared up at it as well. "Why would Boba Fett of all people save you?" she wondered.

"I don't really know myself," Han admitted. "If I had to guess, I think he was angry about what Ben did and didn't want him to succeed. He has a thing about children turning against their parents."

"I'm glad," Leia said softly.

"You know something? So am I," Han declared.

There was a lot they had to talk about. They had to decide what to do about Ben. And when the others came back with Luke, there would be more reunions and more discussions.

For now, however, just being back together was enough.


End file.
